


They'll always find each other

by PartoftheShadowWorld



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Mundane Julian Blackthorn, mundane Emma Carstairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartoftheShadowWorld/pseuds/PartoftheShadowWorld
Summary: Emma and Julian meet as mundanes, this time with nothing standing in the way of being together. No matter what world they're in, they'll always find each other.





	1. Chapter 1

Ok guys, there are two rules I’m going to teach you in this class that are the most important   
things about self defense. Number one: attackers are always going to be looking for vulnerable   
targets. You need to always be aware of your surroundings and take general precautions like   
having your keys ready in your hand as you approach your car and try to always walk in well lit   
areas.” Emma paced in front of the class, sweeping her long blonde curls into a ponytail as she   
talked. She loved teaching at the community center, and the first day of class was always the   
best. 

A tall, gangly boy who looked about seventeen shyly raised his hand. Emma rested her gaze on   
him, “Yes?”   
“Um yeah, you said there were two rules...yet you only told us one…?”   
“Ah yes, rule number two: don’t be that vulnerable person an attacker is looking for.” Emma   
grinned dangerously as she answered the question. “Luckily after you finish my class you won’t   
be.” 

The boy lowered his hand and shrank back into the group of students, looking more frightened   
than he had before he asked. His teacher looked as if she was going to enjoy kicking the crap   
out of them in the name of “education.” 

“Ok everyone, let’s split up into pairs and begin. . .” By the end of class Emma was covered in   
only a thin sheen of perspiration while the rest of the class was red faced and had to bend over   
to catch their breath. As per usual, she had chosen the biggest member of her class as her   
partner for the demonstrations. She loved proving that size didn’t really matter if one was trained   
and prepared. This time it had been a large, burly man with a beard, probably in his late thirties.   
His answer had been smug when she asked why he was taking this class.   
“Oh I’m just here for my wife, I don’t really need this for myself,: he said with a smirk.   
Big mistake. 

His wife ha giggled with a little too much glee when Emma had taken him down with one move.   
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is actually rule number three. It’s always good to stay up on   
your training, and never, never underestimate your opponent.” She winked at the man while he   
was still lying dazed on the floor. On their way out the wife had elbowed her husband until he   
grumbled an apology. 

Emma packed up her classroom, rolled up the mats, turned off the light and headed towards the   
door. On her way out of the building she passed an open classroom with a class in progress.   
She glanced inside and the handsome guy at the front caught her eye. He had enchanting eyes   
the color of sea water, and they lit with animation as he talked, so much so that Emma didn’t   
even hear a word he had said. She only pulled her attention away when her stomach roared at   
her. It had been growling, but intensified when she had ignored it. 

She had just closed the door on her fourth floor walk-up when she hard a knock. She dropped   
her stuff unceremoniously in a pile beside her couch. She opened the door to a familiar face, the   
delivery man from the Chinese place around the corner. 

Emma sighed heavily at him. “Seriously?? This is what it’s come to? I hadn’t even called to   
place an order yet!” He shrugged his shoulders and handed the bag of food to her. She   
narrowed her eyes at him as she passes a bill over the food into his open hand and shut the   
door. 

That’s it, she thought, she really, really needed to change things in her life. She was getting so   
pathetic and predictable even the delivery guy was judging her. She groaned inwardly as she   
went through the other close by delivery options in her head and realized she had gone through   
something similar with all of them.   
“Ok Emma, time to put on your big girl pants and finally learn how to cook,” she chided herself.   
She ate her dinner slowly that night, savoring every bite since it would probably be the last   
edible thing she would eat in awhile. 

The next day she scanned the bulletin board at the center for cooking classes. She finally found   
one, “Cooking for beginners: You’ll never burn the toast again!” She wondered miserably if the   
instructor had ever met someone who had set the whole toaster on fire before. . . If not it was   
their lucky day! Despite her serious doubts, Emma marched into class, armed with her notebook   
and pen, determined to learn something. She used the delivery man’s smirk and shrugs as   
motivation. She chose a seat in the middle of the classroom, she wanted to be close enough to   
heard the instructor well but she just couldn’t bring herself to sit in front, guess that was just the   
loaner in her. 

She heard the teacher walk in and up to the front but didn’t look up until she heard his slightly   
familiar voice. It was the guy with the blue-green eyes she had seen last night, he must teach   
multiple classes. She caught herself trapped in those gorgeous eyes again. She shook her head   
and admonished herself, she had already missed the first few things he’d said. She set pen to   
paper, adamant in recording any and all he had to teach, anything to save herself from further   
judgemental delivery boy stares. 

She spent the next hour furiously taking notes, not realizing the class was over until everyone   
around her started to get up and exit the room. She had also failed to realize the grin her   
instructor had tried to hide when he had noticed her overly diligent not taking and the way her   
face had scrunched up in determination. He walked over to her and knocked lightly on the desk   
to get her attention. 

“Wow,” he said and whistled a low steady sound. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a   
painstakingly meticulous student before. Your cooking is that bad huh?” He smiled as he held   
out his hand. “Hi, my name is Julian.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emma glanced up at the knock on her desk, all the while scribbling furiously in her notebook before she forgot the last bit he had said before the end of class. She hadn’t heard a word he had said to her, and apparently whatever it was warranted a response because he looked at her expectantly. 

“Excuse me?” she inquired, not sure why he had singled her out after class.   
“I said, is your cooking really that bad? I’ve never had such an assiduous student before.” He glanced down at her notebook as if to emphasize his point. She closed it when he did, suddenly self conscious of the copious amount of chicken scratch that covered the pages. She had definitely missed out on the lovely neat handwriting classes all the other girls had taken growing up. She sighed, and looked back up at him, hesitant to be ensnared in his sea colored eyes again.

“I’m not even sure you could call it cooking, every appliance I attempt to use always ends up catching fire. Whether it’s some horrific coincidence or they’re purposefully bringing their suffering to an untimely end, I have yet to figure out.” She winced at the last memory she had made in the kitchen as she finished her explanation. It had involved the stove bursting into flames and an explosion of half cooked pasta. It had taken an incredibly genuine and profuse apology to her landlord and weeks of scrubbing pasta from the walls and ceiling to keep from getting evicted. She just realized the landlord probably wouldn’t appreciate her venturing into the kitchen again, lessons or not. . . 

Julian smiled down at her as he watched her relive what he assumed was the last battle she fought and ultimately lost with the kitchen appliances. Emma loved his smile, it was very warm and friendly, and made her feel slightly better about her own incompetence. 

He stuck his hand out again, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you heard me introduce myself earlier. My name is Julian.”

“I’m Emma, Emma Carstairs.” She reached out and gripped his hand firmly with her own. She hated when men expected her to have some dainty handshake like she was some delicate flower who might break if gripped too hard. Her father had always taught her a firm handshake and looking someone in the eyes would make them take you seriously. Of course, he didn’t include what to do when that someone’s eyes made you freeze on the spot and almost feel sick to your stomach with butterflies in his lesson. She groaned inwardly at the thought. 

His smile widened with her small show of force, uncharacteristic for someone her size.  
“Nice to meet you Emma. I’m just about to head over to the cafe across the street for coffee, would you like to join me?” he asked while still grasping her hand. 

Emma’s stomach growled as if answering his question itself. She flushed and released his hand, embarrassed. She almost immediately regretted it though, her hand felt cold and somewhat smaller outside of his larger one. She chuckled in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.   
“That depends, does this cafe also serve sandwiches or something? I don’t think I’m brave enough to venture into my kitchen quite yet.”

He laughed as she stood up and gathered her things, following him out of the classroom. Walking behind him gave her a chance to study him unnoticed. He was significantly taller than her 5’5 self, she guessed he was somewhere around 6’3. His dark brown hair looked almost black in the dim light of the hallway and was just long enough for the curls to brush the top of his neck. His broad shoulders were connected to his slender waist by a very strong and muscular looking back. Emma was staring at that back, trying to glimpse the muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he walked, when he turned around. She jerked her eyes away, just in time she hoped. Hadn’t she made enough of a fool of herself without being caught ogling this man she had just met? She wanted to groan in frustration, she was normally much cooler than this. What was it about this guy that unnerved her so much, she thought desperately. Julian grinned at her as though he could read her mind. Oh god, she’d never hoped against anything more in her life.

“We’d better hurry and get you something to eat, your stomach sounds downright homicidal.” His grin only seemed to widen as he took in her humiliated expression in response to his observation. She’d been so busy checking him out she hadn’t even noticed her hunger had made itself known again, loudly. She tried to compose herself with giving him a small smile in return, all the while silently threatening her stomach and any other body parts that could possibly add to her embarrassment with a terrible vengeance unless they kept quiet. 

They grabbed a table by the window in the small, quaint cafe. Emma seized the menu almost immediately, desperate to satisfy her mutinous stomach. When the waitress came by Julian ordered a cappuccino and she ordered about half of the menu. The server smirked at this before winking at Julian as she turned to leave. Emma shot her a lethal glare as she walked away. She was beginning to regret coming with him. She had never been this awkward around a guy since she had been about 15. If anything they tended to be unnerved by her. She had gotten used to intimidating guys as she got older, none of them expected such spunk in a small and compact package. She can’t say she appreciated being on the other end of the spectrum. She glanced up from her water and those blue green eyes met her brown ones and she suddenly felt at ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be so disastrous after all . . .


	3. Chapter 3

Julian let Emma eat in companionable silence, much to her appreciation. She wasn’t a very elegant eater already and adding talking into the equation wouldn’t be pretty. She took the time to wonder what it was about him that seemed so calming and reassuring. Being in his presence was somehow made all the problems in her world seem small and insignificant. She chewed her last bites of food slowly and thoughtfully, a little apprehensive to break the comfortable silence. Julian smiled at her as she set her fork down on her empty plate. 

“Feeling better?” he asked with a glance at her plate. She gave gave him a small smile in return and nodded, “I am, thanks. Sorry about that, my stomach’s been spoiled by very punctual delivery boys for quite some time now.” He quirked an eyebrow at this and Emma launched into her last experience with the disparaging delivery boy and how apparently the Chinese place had just saved her payment info on file without her knowledge and had started delivering before even being called. By the end of it Julian was dissolving into giggles. Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this, feeling relief at the familiar motion as opposed to all the butterflies she’d been experiencing. 

Finally she spoke in an attempt to sober his giggling, “OK, come on, that can’t be the first time you’ve heard a story like that.” At least, she hoped not. He finally stopped and had to wipe a tear or two away before he responded.   
“I’ve heard a lot of reasons why people decided to take my class, but I don’t think anyone’s ever been shamed into it before by people in the restaurant business,” He grinned at her over the table. She quelled the urge to roll her eyes at him again.  
“How does someone so young,” and good looking, she thought, though kept that part to herself, “become a cooking instructor? I have to admit, when I signed up for this class I assumed some woman in her fifties, preferably with a southern accent.” She smiled at his look of confusion. 

“I’ve always heard southern cooking is is the best,” she added in a drawling accent, “everything is better fried and drowned in butter darlin’.” Now it was Julian’s turn to roll his eyes. “I can’t think of anything more overrated. Except perhaps the gluten free diets.” he scoffed and shook his head. “So, how did you come to teach these arts of culinary cuisine anyway?” she asked, putting on her best posh accent to accentuate her question. 

“Well, my dad died when I was 12, and so my mom had to take on extra shifts to keep us all afloat. She was hardly around for dinner anymore after that. I’m sure I could’ve lived off of bologna sandwiches and frozen pizza, but I also had four younger siblings to worry about. It all started with me watching old cooking shows, namely Martha Stewart in particular. I took the money my mom left for takeout and started buying groceries instead. The money stretched and lasted a lot longer that way and my younger siblings could have nice, well balanced meals.” He chuckled at that. “Well, mostly well balanced. There was a lot of trial and error in the beginning and we were on a first name basis with the pizza delivery boy for awhile.”

Emma, who had stifled a giggle at the mention of Martha Stewart and the mental image it brought up, couldn’t keep her eyes off of him as he talked. There was something about Julian’s face that changed when he mentioned his siblings. She saw pride, softness, and a slight hint of mischievousness all etched into his features. But the most significant element, she noticed, was the overwhelming sense of love Julian obviously held for them. Emma watched his expressions in wonder, unsure if she had seen such strong emotion so easily displayed before. It made her feel both a little excite and a little uneasy. Displaying her own emotions wasn’t exactly her strong suit, she preferred to keep them hidden away in her mind under lock and key.

Julian worried slightly as he saw Emma’s gaze lose a little of its intensity, like she was getting lost in her own head. And what a beautiful head it was, covered with long blonde hair framing a beautiful face, and from what he could tell so far, held a fierce and beautiful mind as well. Though he didn’t know much about her yet, he longed to get to know her. He wanted to learn everything; her likes and dislikes, what made her laugh, what made her angry (besides overreaching delivery boys of course), what she’s like in her strongest and most vulnerable moments. 

“And I ended up really loving not just the fact that cooking gave me a way to care for my siblings properly, but the act itself. Learning a new recipe or a new technique always gave me a sense of accomplishment.” He sighed as he finished his explanation, he always rambled on and on when talking about his siblings. They were his great joy in life and he was proud of them. She nodded as if she understood his obvious sentiment, though by her expression he didn’t think she did. The idea that Emma had not experienced this kind of love and affection brought with it a surprising amount of sadness. He wanted to take her in his arms then and there, if only to reassure her that that kind of fervor, that passino was possible. 

He clutched his hands beneath the table to keep from reaching for her. No, he couldn’t do that. She barely knew him. She would probably throat punch him if he tried that and he couldn’t blame her. He had seen her around the center before, but he didn’t think she had noticed him. He knew what she taught there and while he had yet to see her in action, throwing him off of her was certainly not how he wanted to be introduced to her skills. He sighed inwardly. He had always been drawn to broken things, urged by the desire to “fix” them. Hr felt a similar pull towards Emma, though the idea of her being broken made his very soul ache. How did someone who obviously did not need protection, who just seemed to overflow with independence, leave Julian with the overwhelming desire to take care of her?


	4. Chapter 4

Julian looked down at the empty table and almost panicked. All the food was eaten and the coffee had been drunk, soon there would be no reason for Emma to stay. He didn’t know why but he hated the thought of parting so soon. Ok, he thought, just act casual. He searched for for some subtle, not creepy way to get her to stay a little longer. He realized that while he had rambled on and on about his family he had not asked her about her own. He cursed himself silently. She must think him so egotistical that he loved to hear himself talk.   
“So, tell me about you, your family. Do you have any siblings?” he asked her intently. He mentally breathed a sigh of relief that he hd managed to keep his voice light and casual, not betraying his sense of urgency at keeping their time together from ending just yet. 

Emmad had been watching some sort of internal struggle play out on Julian’s face, resisting the urge to giggle. The look of concentration h held there at the end was so intense his eyes almost seemed to cross. He had apparently decided on an action because he fixed those gorgeous blue-green eyes on Emma and asked her about her family. She sort of shrugged her shoulders non-committedly. “There’s not a whole lot to tell really. I have no siblings, though I always sort of wanted some. What only child doesn’t? Both of my parents were in the army so we moved around a lot while I was growing up. I’m just a stereotypical army brat I guess,” she answered. She went on to explain that most people always seemed to find her childhood interesting, but she always thought life would’ve been much more captivating staying in one place for more than a year or two. But she had learned most people deemed that “too ordinary” while her life had supposedly been super exciting to them. Sure she got to see a quite a few places growing up, but she would’ve been much more excited to be able to watch the changes that happened in one place over the course of her youth. To watch progress take place and the people you’d filled your life with grow and evolve. Instead she;d never really had much constant people in her life, besides her parents in between deployments and the grandparents she stayed with on the occasion bother her parents were sent away. 

Julian gazed at her from across the table with a patient and understanding expression. “That must’ve been really lonely,” he remarked. Again she just shrugged at him. “It wasn’t too bad, I survived. Besides, I had plenty of time to focus on school and my training.”   
“Training?” He asked in a curious voice, “like for sports?” She shook her head. “Not quite. I mean, I did play a few sports like softball and basketball, but my parents always insisted I take some martial arts classes or other types of hand to hand combat. I took my first one when I was seven if I remember correctly.” Julian’s mouth opened in surprise. “Wow, that sounds intense. What were they training you for? Did they want you to follow in their footsteps and join the military?” She shook her head thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so. They would always say the world was a tough place, especially for girls, and I think they wanted me to be prepared for that. Though I didn’t take it all that seriously until I was 15 and realized just how right they were.” 

Julian didn’t like the sound of the end of her thought and wondered what had happened to her then. The notion of anyone hurting Emma, even if it was ten years ago made his blood boil. He wanted to ask her but wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. It was probably something very personal and not the right thing to ask about on a first date with anyone, let alone someone who had erected such obvious walls around herself. Emma seemed so fortified and guarded as a fortress, but not one whose walls he wanted to break down, but one he wanted her to let him into willingly. And for that Julian would need patience and that was ok for he was sure she was worth more than that. His mind halted and went back to his previous thought, Oh crap. Was this a date? Could it be considered one? Would she consider it one? Oh God, he hadn’t even paid for her meal! He looked around hastily for a check and found none. Oh no. She must’ve already grabbed it herself. And now she must think he was either incredibly rude, an idiot, or worse, she would think he just wanted to be friends. 

What did he want exactly? He hadn’t had a chance to think about it yet. Ever since he noticed her in class he just knew he had to talk to her. The adorably determined pinched look on her face and her flurried note taking had caught his eye and he wanted to learn more about the woman behind it all. He figured he had only just begun to scratch the surface on the depth that made up this beautiful, fierce, incredibly intimidating person in front of him, and he craved more desperately. Friends shared a lot but those closer shared everything. No, he did not just want her friendship he wanted all of her.


End file.
